<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>You Can Count on Me To Misbehave by Safraninflare</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28121256">You Can Count on Me To Misbehave</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Safraninflare/pseuds/Safraninflare'>Safraninflare</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Claude von Riegan is a Little Shit, Gen, Platonic making out to avoid shenanigans, Pranks and Practical Jokes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:01:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,479</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28121256</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Safraninflare/pseuds/Safraninflare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Black Eagles start a prank war with the Golden Deer, Hilda and Claude have to show them who the real masterminds are. Originally written for Delicate Flower: A Hilda Fanzine.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You Can Count on Me To Misbehave</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So, tell me again why I’m here?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hilda, the sparkling jewel of House Goneril.” Claude patted Hilda on the back, but she swatted his hand away like one of Dorte’s flies. “This is revenge.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, but like. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lorenz.</span>
  </em>
  <span> We prank him all the time!” She thought back to their most famous scheme, where they convinced the Gloucester heir that she </span>
  <em>
    <span>totally</span>
  </em>
  <span> knew how to cut hair and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh yes, Lorenz, that looks so noble</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Claude had nearly broken a rib from trying not to laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is different. No one messes with the Golden Deer.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But, why do you need me? I’m not good at anything and </span>
  <em>
    <span>plus,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I need my beauty sleep!” Hilda crossed her arms over her chest and gave her best pout, even though she knew that Claude von Riegan was the only person in this entire monastery that wouldn’t fall for her song and dance. Maybe that’s why they somehow became best friends. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re the only one that can fit through the window!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nuh uh. Lysithea can too!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you really think that Lysithea would engage in something as </span>
  <em>
    <span>childish</span>
  </em>
  <span> as our prank war?” Claude asked. “Plus, if we let this keep going, they’ll end up pranking Marianne. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hilda bit her lip. Of course she wouldn’t want anyone to go after Marianne. So, she snatched the rope out of Claude’s hands and sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Black Eagles are going down!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s my girl!” Claude clapped her once on the back. “Just go through the window, and unlock the door from the inside.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She flashed him a thumbs up, then began to scale the wall. The moment her foot first touched brick, she wondered how the hell Claude managed to convince her this was a good idea. What if she got stuck in the window? What if she failed miserably and got them caught, and then Marianne would get pranked, and Claude would hate her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What if she </span>
  <em>
    <span>broke a nail?</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Hilda!” Claude shouted up at her, somehow forgetting that this was supposed to be a </span>
  <em>
    <span>secret</span>
  </em>
  <span> mission. She was halfway up the wall, and yet she was frozen. “I’ll do your chores for a week if you make it in there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>dastard. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Deal.” Hilda scrambled the rest of the way up the wall and popped the window open without a second thought. Sure, it looked a little tight, but there was no way that Claude would have miscalculated this. She could definitely make it through.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hilda shimmied through the crack and landed face-first on Manuela’s desk. Papers scattered to and fro, littering the ground with assignments and rosters and whatever other questionable things that Manuela kept there. She picked one up, squinting at the horrid handwriting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow, Caspar. Even I can spell </span>
  <em>
    <span>orange,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> she mumbled, before vaguely straightening out the things she knocked over. Thankfully, Manuela had much less method to her madness than Hanneman, or even Byleth. Even if she left things a bit of a mess, Manuela probably wouldn’t notice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hilda made her way back to the window and looked down at Claude. “To the door!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He flashed a thumbs up at her, and she watched as he slunk around the side of the building. She made her way through the rows of desks, pausing for a moment when she found what seemed to be the place where Edelgard and Hubert usually sat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>assumed</span>
  </em>
  <span> that was where they sat, considering it was the front row and it reeked of the pair’s air of </span>
  <em>
    <span>no fun allowed.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Goddess, she was so glad that Claude wasn’t as much of a fuddy duddy as the other house leaders. If she was going to be stuck in the Academy for a year, at least she was going to have a good time! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She unlocked the front doors and cracked one open, allowing Claude to slip inside. He took a look around and let out a low whistle, even though there wasn’t much different about this classroom than their own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, what’re we doing? Hiding a dead fish in Edelgard’s desk?” Hilda asked. Though, part of her wondered if it was wise to go after Edelgard. In fact, she could already see the look on Hubert’s face. He might murder them all in cold blood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Even better, Hils.” Claude had a bag slung over his shoulder, which he dumped out on the floor. “I got some paint from Ignatz.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A smile broke out on Hilda’s face as she snatched up a jar of bright yellow paint and a brush. She bolted towards one of the Black Eagles banners, moving faster than she had in months without someone actively chasing her with a weapon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What should I write?” she asked. Before Claude could answer, though, she smirked again. “Oh, I know!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wasted no time, adding a pair of antlers to their precious eagle, followed by the words </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Fear the Deer”</span>
  </em>
  <span> written in the elaborate script that she had practiced every time she wrote to Holst. When she finished, she tossed the glass jar to the ground, allowing it to shatter and spread yellow paint everywhere. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claude whistled again. “A masterpiece, Hilda. Truly.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that it?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and smearing a bit of paint on her shirt. Well, she could always get Leonie to help her do laundry in the morning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Almost.” Claude grinned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hilda had known him for long enough that </span>
  <em>
    <span>that particular grin</span>
  </em>
  <span> meant that he had something absolutely diabolical up his sleeve. Sure enough, he slipped a small vial out of the wrist of his shirt, one made of glass with a very secure-looking stopper. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Might wanna hold your nose,” he said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She also had known him for long enough to know that when he told her to hold her nose, she listened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claude spiked the vial to the floor, and the two ran for the door with their breath held, scrambling until they could make it back out into the fresh air. Hilda pressed her back against the bricks, her skin covered with a sheen of very unladylike sweat. How did Claude von Riegan make her </span>
  <em>
    <span>run?</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What was that?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Something I whipped up. Remember the way that demonic beast smelled?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Actually, she did. After they fought what used to be Miklan, it had taken her a week and all of the rose-scented shampoo in Goneril to get that stink out of her hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>evil.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hilda and Claude could barely hold their giggles as they walked back towards the dorms. Despite the fact that it was way past curfew, they weren’t doing anything to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>sneaky</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It would take too much time to go the long way, even if it was more hidden. After all, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> needed her beauty sleep. In fact, she had lost out on so much that she might have to sleep through the morning’s lessons! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they rounded the corner, however, Hilda caught a glimpse of the biggest wrench that could get thrown in their plan. A tuft of green hair, the blue-and-gold of the archbishop’s chief aide—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Seteth.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without any warning, Hilda grabbed Claude by the lapels and swung his back against the brick, pressing her lips to his. If they were going to get caught, she’d rather get caught making out with the heir to the Leicester Alliance than spreading beast stink in a rival classroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seteth cleared his throat, the sound echoing in the night air. “Excuse me, Miss Goneril. Mister von Riegan. Are you aware that it’s past curfew?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hilda pulled herself off of Claude, who looked absolutely dumbstruck, and gave the best faux gasp she could muster. She ran her hands down the front of her dress, careful to avoid flashing the bit of yellow paint on her arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, my </span>
  <em>
    <span>Goddess.</span>
  </em>
  <span> This is so embarrassing!” She ran a hand through one of her twintails. “Claude, I told you we’d get caught!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seteth stared at them in a way that made her worry if he was actually buying it or not. The frown on his face was ever-present, and could go either way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t tell Lady Rhea!” Hilda pleaded. Though, if she </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> get a detention, she probably wouldn’t end up going anyway. It was too much work!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will make an exception this one time, provided you go straight to your rooms—separately,” he said with a furrowed brow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, thank you, Seteth! I promise we’ll be good!” Hilda grabbed Claude’s wrist, Claude, who still seemed quite shocked by the whole affair, and yanked him back towards the stairs. Seteth had already begun to walk away, leaving them alone in the dark.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sure are something, Hilda,” Claude finally said, a look of admiration in his eye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That I am, Claude.” She smiled. “Now, don’t ask me to do anything </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever again.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>